


Hold On, My Love

by sunflowerparker



Category: Harrison Osterfield - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Four Times One Time, Friends to Lovers, Originally Posted on Tumblr, fluffy fluff, lots of fluff, lots of hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerparker/pseuds/sunflowerparker
Summary: The four times Haz lets go of your hand and the one time he holds on.
Relationships: Harrison Osterfield/Reader, Harrison Osterfield/You
Kudos: 1





	Hold On, My Love

1\. It was a warm spring day as you pulled on a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. The boys invited you to join them for a round of golf at the local club they owned a membership at and you had readily accepted despite not knowing anything about the sport.

Golf was not your thing. You had never played anything more extensive than miniature golf or goofing around at a golfing range while your other friends took the sport way more seriously. Still, it was a chance to spend time with the boys, and most notably, Harrison, whom you’ve found yourself catching feelings for recently.

You weren’t exactly committed to the whole golf thing, which is why you didn’t bother shopping for actual golf clothes. But as you and the boys walked into the prestigious club, you started feeling a bit self conscious about the way you were dressed. The boys all had on polos and fancy shoes specifically made for golfers. Other people around you wore similar outfits, all seeming to adhere to an unspoken dress code. You stuck out like a sore thumb, and you wanted to just shrink away from any judgmental eyes.

You tugged at the hem of your old t-shirt and tried your best to hide behind Harrison and Harry as Tom sorted out getting you clubs to play with and a golf cart for all of you to ride around on. Thankfully the club was mostly empty save for the occasional retired couple sipping on alcoholic beverages at 10 o’clock in the morning. No one seemed to take notice of you, and for that you were grateful.

“You alright, love?” Harrison asked, noticing your wide eyes taking in your surroundings.

You chewed on your bottom lip, taking another passing glance around. “I’m alright. Just feel a bit out of place is all.”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, Harrison reassured you, “Nonsense. We’re just here to play some golf like everyone else.”

He flashed his genuine smile at you, and it put you a bit more at ease until you remembered that you had in fact come here to play golf and you still hadn’t the least idea how to do that very thing. You gulped as Tom waltzed over to the group jingling the keys to the golf cart with yours and his clubs thrown over his shoulders.

“Right. We ready?” he asked, motioning to the door leading outside.

With a nod of your head, you trailed behind the boys out to the grounds.

Tom swung first, and you watched in astonishment as his ball flew through the air, landing so far away that you couldn’t even see it.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath. How the hell were you supposed to hit it that far?

Harrison’s shoulder nudged you, and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow silently asking what was the matter.

You sighed before scratching the back of your neck as you observed Harry also send the ball soaring through the air, landing on the designated green area. “I don’t think I can do this, Haz.”

“Sure you can.” He pulled the driver (the one club you knew the name of) out of his bag along with a tee and a white golf ball. “Just watch me first, and I can help you if you need it.”

You scoffed. If you needed help. Very funny, Harrison.

Shoving the tee into the ground, Harrison placed the ball gently on top of it, standing up to adjust for his shot. He re-gripped the club a couple of times, pulled at the glove adorning one of his hands, slightly readjusted his feet probably a hundred times. You couldn’t help but giggle at the serious and intense look on his face as he performed his pre-hitting ritual.

Your giggle did not go unnoticed by the blond. “Something funny there, mate?” he asked, slightly irritated but with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You cleared your throat, feigning a cough to cover your laughter. “Nope. Nothing’s funny. Nothing at all. Carry on.”

Shooting you one last glare, Harrison returned his attention to the game in front of him. After more scooting of his feet, re-gripping the club, and glancing out to the flag marking where the hole was, he swung his club and hit the ball just as far as the other two boys before him.

Tom and Harry clapped sophisticatedly and rather obnoxiously from the golf cart as they waited for the two of you to finish your turns.

After returning his driver back to the bag, Harrison walked over to yours, pulling out your own driver and handing it to you. “Your turn.”

Looking at the golf club and back up at Harrison, you bit your lip. “Aren’t you going to help me, Haz?”

“Oh no, love. I heard you giggling at me earlier.”

You pouted, poking out your bottom lip and putting on the most convincing puppy dog eyes you could manage. “Please, Haz,” you pleaded. “I really need your help.” You glanced over to Tom and Harry knowing you needed to be a bit more convincing. “You’re clearly the best golfer here. I want you to show me how to do it.”

“Hey!” Harry and Tom shouted from the golf cart.

Harrison snickered and then sighed, and you knew you had won. “You’re lucky I’m a nice person, Y/N.”

A grin grew across your face as you took the club from his hands, skipping over to where he placed his tee in the ground. Harrison set it all up for you, and he stood in front of you as he instructed you how to swing properly.

“Right. So you just need to place yourself so the tee and the ball are in the middle of your body.”

You readjusted your stance. “Like this?”

“Just like that. Good.”

“Now I just … swing?” you questioned, no sense of certainty in your voice.

“Yep. You can step back and practice a couple of times first if you’d like.”

You did just that, stepping away from the tee and swinging at the air like you were going to hit the golf ball.

You could hear Harry and Tom cringe behind you, and Harrison placed a finger against his lips pensively.

“How … how was it?”

“I’m not going to lie.” Harrison removed his finger from his face. “That was terrible, love.”

You groaned loudly, just wanting to learn how to golf properly. “Can you just guide me through it? I don’t think I’m going to get it by you just watching me.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Harrison walked over to stand behind you. He tapped the inside of your feet with his shoe softly, indicating to spread them wider. You shuffled a bit before you felt his arms wrap around your person. Your back was pressed against his chest, his breath fanning across the back of your neck leaving chill bumps as he spoke.

“You need to move your fingers up a bit more,” he instructed, peeling your fingers off the driver and placing them more towards the end of the grip.

Once your hands were readjusted, he placed his own hands on top of yours, gripping firmly. His rough hands and long fingers easily wrapped around yours, and it felt so warm and safe to have his hands holding yours.

Guiding your movements, Harrison helped you swing the club a couple of times before asking if you were ready to do it with an actual ball.

“I think I’m ready,” you said. “But can you help me with it the first time? I don’t want to mess up.”

Harrison’s hands still on yours, the two of you walked over to the tee, settling into place before he moved your arms together to hit the ball way down the green.

“Look, Haz! I did it!”

“Great job, love! You smashed it.”

The two of you watched the ball until it bounced on the grass, rolling to a stop just shy of Harry’s ball. Harrison’s hands still lingered on the club, covering yours like they belonged there, like it was a completely natural thing for him to-

“Um, Haz?” Tom interrupted. “You know you can let go of her now, mate.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, dropping his hands from the club and shoving them into his pocket with a light shade of pink on his cheeks. Without looking back at you, he hopped into the golf cart and waited for you to pack up your bag to join the boys, leaving you a bit flustered at the whole situation.

2\. You gulped as you scanned the crowd waiting outside of the set.

Tom was filming for a new movie in the middle of London. And while his presence always attracted a crowd wherever he went, here in his own country, in the middle of such a large city, the number of people gathered around just for a mere glimpse of the actor was enormous. The street was packed with bodies, leaving no room for you to walk through.

You were supposed to be hanging out with Harrison and Harry today who were both roped into being Tom’s assistants once again. But as you gazed in astonishment at the number of people creating a carrier between you and the set, you were beginning to think the feat impossible.

“A lot of people isn’t it?” a voice from beside you said, startling you from your transfixed stare.

“Geez, Haz,” you scolded, pushing his shoulder playfully. “Don’t scare me like that.”

He chuckled, his bright smile and captivating eyes beaming down at you. “But you’re so easy to scare. It’s fun too.”

You rolled your eyes at him, watching as he took a final drink from the paper coffee cup in his hand and threw it into a nearby bin.

“Right.” He held his hand out to you, palm up. “Ready to take on the crowd?”

Taking his hand nervously, you look at the group of bystanders and then back at Harrison. His warm hand intertwined with yours, his cold ring resting in between two of your fingers. You nodded your head. The uneasiness you felt earlier dissipated a little as you allowed Harrison to pull you into the sea of people, his hand in yours offering you comfort.

Flustered giggles left Harrison’s mouth as the crowd immediately started bombarding him with questions.

“Where is Tom?”

“Have you seen Harry today?”

“Why isn’t Tom with you?”

“When will they be done filming here?”

He pushed through to bodies respectfully, guiding you along with him while saying “excuse me” and “pardon me” as he wiggled through the mass of people. That is, until a fan asked a certain question that seemed to strike a nerve with Harrison.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Heat rose to your face as you tried not to show any outward indication to how flustered the question made you feel. When Harrison actually responded to the girl, you were shocked. He usually never revealed aspects of his personal life to fans.

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head for good measure. “We’re just friends.”

You felt his grip on your hand loosen, and the crowd started to blur as tears filled your eyes.

The large number of people was overwhelming on its own, but having Harrison outright deny any possibility that the two of you could ever be more than just friends in front of everyone was hurtful and pushed your already heightened emotions over the brink.

When your arm fell to hang by your side, you nearly lost it. Harrison had let go of your hand.

He left you in the crowd to fend for yourself. He left you in the crowd to run away from any more prying questions, while you were left in the wake of his absence. He left you alone – in more than one sense of the word.

The people seemed to be more interested in Harrison than you, and the space that had formed to allow Harrison to walk through quickly enclosed around you.

You searched frantically, but you could not find those sandy curls in the sea of bustling people.

You couldn’t help the couple of tears that slid down your face in the midst of trying to get to the front of the crowd. You were about to give up and turn around to run back to your flat and sulk for the rest of the day when the crowd started to rile up again.

This time, a person was coming towards you.

“Y/N?” the familiar voice called.

Much to your surprise you managed to squeak out, “I’m over here!”

The crowd started to part, and a relieved Harry finally reached you. He threw his arm over your shoulder, and pushed through the crowd again. More questions were thrown around, mostly about Tom and his whereabouts. Harry ignored them all as he tried to comfort you over the shouting crowd. This time, you actually made it to your destination of getting on to set.

Once you had stepped over the barrier separating the crowd from the set, you managed to calm your nerves down a bit. The tears were gone, but the heavy feeling weighing on your heart was prominent as ever.

“I thought you were with Haz,” Harry confirmed once he insisted you sit on a folding chair tor est for a bit.

“I was.” You looked back to the crowd now bustling with excitement at the sight of both Harry and Harrison. “But when one of the fans asked if we were dating, he let go of my hand. And well … you know the rest.”

Harry’s brows furrowed with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t know why he did that. Harrison should know better than to let comments like that get to his head.”

You shrugged, just grateful Harry was able to find you and pull you out of the situation. “It’s fine,” you murmured, clasping your hands together at a sorry attempt to recreate the comforting feeling of Harrison’s hand in yours.

When you looked back to Harry, his eyes were trained somewhere else. You followed his stare and saw Harrison standing on his toes, peering over and into the crowd.

The hardness in your heart softened a little. At least he was looking for you. But you weren’t sure how quickly you would be able to forgive the sting of his words uttered not even five minutes ago.

Harry called out to Harrison, and his eyes lit up in relief when he saw you sitting on a chair under the tent.

“There you are! I was worried about you.”

He rushed over and pulled you in for a hug. You sighed into the embrace, resting your head on his shoulder while looking at Harry who appeared just as confused as you were.

3\. Your heels clicked against the pavement as you trailed behind Harrison and Tuwaine. You and Harry walked side by side along the sidewalk headed towards the local pub for a drink … or three. The sun shined brightly overhead, and you were thankful you dressed nicely this morning as your skirt flowed subtly in the warm breeze.

As you were walking, Harrison glanced back at you, shooting you his signature grin before turning back around to continue his conversation with Tuwaine. You felt Harry nudge your shoulder quite unsubtly to which you blushed and whispered “knock it off” under your breath.

Just as the group approached the pub, your attention was captured by the sound of your name.

“Y/N?” a passing voice called.

You spun around, searching for where the voice came from. When you noticed a familiar face from your time in school, you broke out into a smile. “Jason, hi! How are you?” you asked, stepping aside to let other people pass around you.

His hands were shoved in his pockets and he rocked on his heels. “I’m alright, yeah. You?”

“I’m great, thank you.”

You glanced back at your friends only to find the boys had already gone inside except for Harrison. He leaned against the brick wall outside of the pub with his foot propped up against it, phone in hand, but eyes trained on you. He looked like a model the way he posed casually, his striped button up shirt with dark wash jeans and bright white trainers tying the look together seamlessly.

Giving you a little nod when you locked eyes, you knew Harrison didn’t trust whoever you were talking to enough to leave you outside alone. You gave him a small smile, thankful that he cared and was looking out for you.

You turned your attention back to your old friend, making small talk about what you were up to in life. Everything was going fine until he asked the dreaded question.

Jason crossed his arms over his front. “So are you seeing anyone?”

His head tilted to the side as he waited for an answer.

You had a feeling you knew where this would lead if you chose to answer truthfully, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie about it. “No, I’m not seeing anyone currently.”

He hummed, a grin tugging on his lips. “Let’s grab a drink sometime then.”

You rolled your eyes at yourself internally. Stupid, stupid. You should’ve just lied.

“Actually, I’ve got a lot going on right now. I’m not really looking to date anyone,” you explained rather untruthfully.

“Oh come on,” Jason pushed. “Just one drink.”

You shook your head no, pulling your lips into a tight line. “I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Y/N.”

He took a step towards you and you instinctively backed away from him. He was starting to make you feel uncomfortable, but you knew Harrison was not far away so you weren’t afraid of him. You crossed your arms over your front and looked back over to Harrison who was now studying his phone intently.

“I um, I need to head back to my friends,” you said, pointing over your shoulder to the pub. “They’re all waiting for me.”

“Come on. They can wait a little longer, don’t you think?”

You started to back away even more, slinking towards the pub doors as you shook your head no again.

A hand intertwined with yours, and you whipped your head around to see Harrison standing next to you with his chest puffed out, his arm across his chest defensively. Shooting a warning glare at Jason, Harrison squeezed your hand a little tighter.

You didn’t want things to escalate, so you wished Jason a quick goodbye before Harrison led the way into the pub. As soon as you were inside, you expected Harrison to let go of your hand, but instead, he thumbed over the back of it soothingly as he looked around for Harry and Tuwaine.

Since you two were alone, you took the opportunity to thank him for coming to your rescue, even if you could’ve handled it on your own. “Thanks, Haz.” You gave his hand a squeeze as he turned to look at you. “He was being a dick.”

Harrison shook his head condemningly. “I could tell he was making you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah. He kept trying to ask me out.”

With a raised eyebrow, he asked, “Really?”

You nodded your head yes. “Didn’t want to take no for an answer though.”

Harrison scoffed before muttering “prick” under his breath and subconsciously gripping your hand tighter.

Your heart swelled. Could he be jealous or was he just glad the guy finally left you alone?

Upon spotting Harry and Tuwaine, Harrison pulled you along behind him, hand in hand, through the pub to reach the booth they were saving. As you approached your friends, a pretty girl with long hair and flawless skin waltzed up to Harrison and you. As soon as he saw the girl, Harrison dropped your hand, leaving it to dangle by your side.

You scoffed at yourself. Of course he wouldn’t want to be seen holding your hand when a girl like that walks up to him. You managed to squeeze by Harrison who stopped to speak with the girl, stalking over to your other friends with a miserable look painted across your face.

When you slumped into the booth, you released a large sigh, running your hands through your hair. You grabbed the pint of beer already waiting for you on the table, taking long sips of the pale ale as Tuwaine and Harry looked at each other and then back to you curiously.

Harry eyed you, looking back at Harrison before returning his gaze to you. “Did I see what I think I saw?”

You nod your head dejectedly.

“Was he … was he holding your hand back there?” he asked with a quirk in his brow.

Glancing back at Harrison who was now giggling at something the girl said as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger and back to Harry, you sighed.

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “But as soon as that absolutely gorgeous girl walked over, he dropped my hand so fast.” Your voice trailed off at the end and you lifted the sweating glass to your lips for another swig to console your souring mood.

“You need to tell him, Y/N,” Tuwaine implored earnestly. “Look at you. I can’t handle seeing you like this any longer.”

You mindlessly shook your head no with downcast eyes, the thought of rejection all too real in that moment.

“Listen. As soon as you get it off your chest, you’ll feel much better. Regardless of the outcome,” Harry added.

You all three sipped your pints in silence for a minute or so before you finally agreed. “You’re right. I need to just tell him.”

Just as Tuwaine opened his mouth to say something else, Harrison slipped into the booth next to you with a face-splitting grin. He rubbed his hands together excitedly before throwing an arm over the back of the booth and asking, “So what did I miss?”

4\. “Oh yes, that one,” Harrison said, pointing at the film highlighted on the television. “I’ve been wanting to watch it for ages.”

You cringed. If you had known Harrison was going to choose a horror film for your movie night, you might have reconsidered coming over at all. The only time you’ve been able to stand sitting through an entire scary movie was cuddled up next to someone and completely wrapped up in a blanket for security.

Running your hands down your face, you mentally prepared for the distress that surely was to arise as the beginning credits rolled across the screen.

Harrison turned up the volume with the remote after he pressed play, causing your heart rate to rise with it in anxious anticipation of the sudden loud and frightful noises to come.

You bit your lip as you looked over and nervously scanned Harrison’s figure. His feet propped up on the coffee table, hands resting behind his head, eyes trained on the television — relaxed and totally at ease at the idea of watching a scary movie. And you? You were practically quivering in your seat and the film hadn’t even started yet.

You shook your head at yourself, trying to drum up some courage.

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes in when you found yourself curled into a ball on the sofa, hands on your face to shield you from the horrific scene unfolding before you.

The space on the couch between you and Harrison seemed to be much wider than you recalled at the beginning of the movie despite the fact that neither of you had moved and the only comfort item available was the throw blanket currently being shared between the two of you. And as much as you would love to pull the blanket over your head and hide for the rest of the film, you know Harrison too well. He wouldn’t hesitate to change the movie for you, and the excitement in his voice when he selected what to watch was far too enthusiastic to deny him of his wish.

When a particularly gruesome scene flashed on the screen, you squealed and buried your face into the couch cushion.

Harrison chuckled at you, saying “Oh come on, love. It’s not that bad.”

You removed your face from the cushion only to shoot him a glare before returning to your new safe place. You only peeked out again once you heard rustling against the blanket. When you peered out, Harrison’s hand was extended towards you, palm up. A soft smile adorned his lips and his eyes shined with empathy.

“Hold my hand?”

You inhaled sharply. His hand in yours was your weakness and your comfort all in one, and here he was offering it to you like it was a completely casual thing to do between friends. You knew taking him up on his offer would only add on to the growing feelings stored in your heart despite his previous reassurance to fans that the two of you were just friends. But consequences be damned as you returned his expression and interlocked your trembling fingers with his warm, steady ones as you hesitantly turned your attention back to television.

You glanced back at Harrison to find him still looking at you, and a sheepish grin creeped across your face.

“What?” you asked shyly. “Why are you looking at me like that, Haz?”

“Nothing,” he breathed, shaking his head at himself and turning his attention back to the film.

Your mind was anywhere but the tv, fear no longer gripping your mind but instead your sole focus was on the circles mindlessly traced on the back of your hand by Harrison’s thumb. Every time you stole a glance, his bright blue eyes were trained on the screen, making your mind wander with the thought that he truly had no idea the effect he had on you even with simple touches like these.

You hadn’t even heard the soft footsteps tread into the room when Tom exclaimed, “Oh what are we watching?”

As Tom plopped down on the other couch, Harrison snatched his hand away from yours.

Harrison stiffened up at being caught holding your hand, sitting up straighter, gazing intently at the movie. You couldn’t help the frown that overtook your face, hurt that he was ashamed to hold your hand in front of Tom.

Tom looked curiously between the two of you, processing everything he just witnessed. When he saw your somber expression, he offered you a consoling and sympathetic shrug of his shoulder before settling into the couch and silently watching the rest of the film with you and Harrison.

1\. You took one last look in the mirror, twirling in your floor-length dress as you made sure everything looked perfect. The doorbell rang, and you grabbed your clutch off your dresser before heading to the door. When you opened it, Harrison’s mouth dropped open, taking in the sight before him as you stood flustered in the doorway.

“You look stunning, love,” he breathed once he met your eyes.

You blushed, mumbling a thank you while he took your hand, guiding you down the steps and out to the sleek black car waiting for you.

Tonight was a special night. The Brother’s Trust was hosting a fundraiser gala, meaning celebrities and other successful individuals would all be in attendance. You and Harrison were dressed to the nines, ball gown in company with a sleek black fitted suit, gold cufflinks adorning crisp white cuffs of a button up. He looked gorgeous as always, and you couldn’t help but stare at his every feature from his suit, to his shiny Rolex, to his polished shoes.

When you walked into the ballroom of the luxurious hotel, the room roared with gleeful buzz and smooth music. You looked around with wide eyes of admiration at how hard the boys worked to pull off such an event.

The pair of you quickly made your way around the room to find the Hollands and Tuwaine, knowing you would know very few other people in such lavish company.

Glasses of champagne were raised, laughter shared, silly dance moves executed in tipsy haze throughout the evening.

As the night neared its end, you and Harrison were left alone, the rest of the boys off socializing with other guests. You were spent, but utterly content. The music shifted to an elegant melody, leaving you swaying back and forth to the beat mindlessly. Your trance caught Harrison’s attention, and he held his hand out to you.

“May I have this dance?” he asked in playful chivalry.

You giggled, and took his hand. “Why of course you may.”

Smoothly, Harrison pulled you into his embrace, one of his hands resting firmly but respectfully on your waist while the other remained entangled in your hand in the air. You rested your free hand on his shoulder, sighing into the romantic ambiance overtaking the ballroom.

A head of curls caught your eyes, Harry careening by with another champagne flute in his hand, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. You giggled at his antics, puzzled by the expression but not too concerned since he was likely on his fifth or sixth glass of bubbly at this point. But your laughter was quickly filled with nerves as this was usually the point in which Harrison bailed – any slight recognition of the closeness between you two a warning for Harrison to let go of your hands and flee the scene.

You glanced back up at Harrison whose eyes were trained on your face, smiling brightly, showing off his pearly whites. There was no hesitation, no acknowledgment of Harry’s suggestive behavior, and for that you were grateful.

Releasing a breath of relief, you allowed yourself to become wrapped up in the song and the sway of Harrison’s hands guiding your movements. The other couples on the dance floor dwindled, departing the party for the night was far from young.

Another Holland approached. This time, Tom strolled over, clapping Harrison on the back before shooting you a wink and running back off into the remaining crowd to chat with some famous film director. You were even more perplexed, and sure that Harrison was about to break apart and leave you on the dance floor alone. But when you met his gaze once more, he squeezed your hand in his and pulled you even closer to him, your feet having to readjust to close proximity between the two of you.

You raised an eyebrow at him, just wanting to know why everyone seemed to know something you didn’t. “Haz?”

He tilted his head, grin growing wider at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

“What is going on?”

Harrison chuckled, shaking his head at himself. He glanced down to the little floor space left between your bodies to watch your dress sweep the marble surface gracefully for a moment before meeting your eyes. “I, uh, I finally told the boys something that’s been on my mind for a while.”

Tilting your head, your earrings dangled as you silently encouraged him to further his explanation.

He brought his hand resting on your hip to find your hand resting delicately on his shoulder, intertwining them together so you were holding both of his hands now. The two of you stopped swaying, the melody and other dancers carrying on in the background. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just you and Harrison – no interruptions, no second-guessing, no mixed signals.

“I have feelings for you, Y/N,” he began, his eyes shimmering nervously in the light of the glowing chandeliers. “And at first, I was scared you didn’t feel the same. But then I realized how stupid I would be if I didn’t just tell you on the off chance you might feel the same.”

The corner of your lip tugged upward, but you stopped yourself, needing to be sure he was being real with you.

“Are you- are you being serious?” you asked, your tone laced with disbelief of his confession.

He appeared hurt by your doubt, brows furrowing on his forehead before squeezing your hands. “Of course I’m being serious.”

You finally let your lips break out into a smile, causing Harrison to mirror your expression.

“I have feelings for you too, Haz.”

He inched closer to you, dipping his head towards yours. You sucked in a breath, waiting for the moment you never thought would happen. And he kissed you, so softly and full of care. His tender caress did not last long, but it was all the confirmation you needed to know that this is where you belonged – his hands in yours – together, more than just friends.


End file.
